“By Jove!” he broke out, “one tries to take a serious, sober view. My dress, my person will be minutely described. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. The burden of decision had been transferred. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard. ” The tall young man dropped his eye-glass and smiled. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee.
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